Thursday, December 14, 2017

Sketching - How It's Become Part of my Art Practice

I am a new convert to
sketching as part of my art practice. And a very reluctant convert at that. I
think it was the idea that other people might see my scribblings that I found
so daunting, or perhaps it was a throw-back to fears of "not doing it right",
learned in some long-ago classroom, or maybe it was seeing all those books
about "artful sketchbooks" You know the kind - filled with so many
beautiful paintings that they are a piece of art in themselves. Whatever the
roots of my reluctance were, I've thrown them over. I've dabbled with sketching
before, but I think I can safely say that I now see it as an essential part of
my art practice.

It began with an invitation
to look at lines - all different sorts of lines. I drew 30 little squares on my
sketchbook page and quickly filled them in, beginning with the simplest of
lines and eventually including any sort of line that appealed to me. And I
learned something from that simple exercise that I didn't know before. I could
see which lines appealed to me, which called my name, and therefore what sort
of lines I might want to consider including in my own work. Fancy that.

I began, somewhat
trepidatiously, to use my sketchbook for other things. After all, it's MY
sketchbook - right? So I can make up my own rules (or not) about what I can
include. I limited myself to two rules only - the first is that I must sketch
something every day, and the second is that I must use a black pen. One day I was thinking about different
symbols that might be included in an embroidered piece I am considering making.
So I drew them in my sketchbook.

Another day I went on a
walk specifically to spend time looking at the roof and window lines of nearby
houses, and then I tried my hand at sketching them too.

On yet another day I was
thinking about some of my favourite work by Paul Klee, and what symbols he
used, and then thinking about how to include them in my own pieces, and learned
that working designs to fit a curve appeals enormously to me. Only I didn't
just think about it - I sketched these thoughts, so now I have a record I can
return to at any time I want. And then out of nowhere came these strange
almost-people like shapes. I have no idea what they're about, but I don't need
to know right now. I just need to keep sketching and see what else turns up.

Sketches of leaves and
ferns are not new to me, and felt like a safe bet after those weird people
turned up on my page.

And then another day, it
was almost time for bed and I still hadn't sketched that day. I looked around
the room and my eyes fell on this little suitcase - a little leather suitcase
I'd found on Cuba Street in Wellington and which told me it wanted to come home
with me. So I sketched that.

This day's sketching was an extension of the idea I'd
sketched earlier, of constructing shapes to fit a curve. And because I've
sketched that idea twice now, I'm thinking it might be something I wast to
explore further.

This was an idea for an
installation piece which began with me picking up a long driftwood branch on
the beach. What if I were to use this as a hanging rod for African fabrics -
strips of them arranged around a photo or appliqué of the Bitengye ladies? The
sketch, in this case, became a place to record an idea before it danced off
into the land of forgotten thoughts. I don't know if I will ever make it, but
that doesn't matter right now. It's the sketching of the idea that's important.

On another day I had
my sketchbook down at Grassy Point on Hornby Island, and recorded how it felt
to be there, as well as making a rough sketch of where I was and describing it
all with words.

And on it goes. And it's wonderful. And I can't imagine now why
I was so reluctant to make sketching part of my art practice, just like the
journalling that I've done for so very many years. It makes me pay more
attention, and it helps me remember what it is I've seen and what I've thought.
It feels a little like leaving markers on a trail - perhaps red ribbons tied to
low-hanging branches - that show that I'm on the right path, heading in the
right direction. I can't see where it's all going, and I don't need to, but I
can see the next red ribbon, and that's enough to keep me moving forward on this
journey.

1 comment:

Oh, Pippa, what fun. Your sketchbook looks like "real" artist's sketchbook to me: there's something very assured about the gesture of your lines. You've inspired me to think I could perhaps dust off my sketchbook too and actually sketch in it. These days I tend to use a sketchbook as a studio journal rather than a place to try out a visual idea. My favourites are your sketches of the suitcase and of the Hornby scene, but I can see that all your other ideas might well find themselves into fibre art.

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About Me

I am a textile artist and quiltmaker, a teacher and a writer. I have been playing with fabric for over 30 years, the last 15 of which have been spent creating original work and teaching design-based classes. I have a deep connection with the women of Africa, and since 2007 have spent part of each year teaching sewing and quilting to women in Uganda.